


Loose Lips

by kaasknot



Series: Brooklyn Blabbermouth [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Racial slurs, gangster au, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:53:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaasknot/pseuds/kaasknot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You ain't heard of <i>Peggy Carter</i>? Take a chair, pal, 'cause if you's gonna walk these streets you gotta know who's the boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loose Lips

**Author's Note:**

> You know how when you sit down to write one story but the words that come out don't match? That's what this was.

You ain't heard of _Peggy Carter?_ No shit. Hey Ernie, you hearin' this? Gramps here don't know 'bout Her Majesty. Take a chair, pal, 'cause if you's gonna walk these streets you gotta know who's the boss.

The police? That a joke, or somethin'? Coppers ain't nothin' much, 'round here. You got a problem with thugs messin' up your family, you won't get nowhere talkin' to _them_. Nah, you want protection? You talk to Miss Peggy Carter. There ain't a gin-joint or cathouse from here to Jamaica Bay she ain't got her finger on.

 _Yeah_ , she's a gangster. What, you thought a dame can't shoot straight as a guy? Lemme tell you somethin' 'bout Peggy Carter, friend: she's the meanest shot this side of Illinoise. She can shoot the wings offa fly at two hundred paces, and that's with one eye closed. She's the biggest, baddest boss in Brooklyn, and she makes sure you knows it. You ever get on her bad side, you _run_. Don't stick around hopin' for a second chance, 'cause she'll send her boys after you, and you'll be drinkin' soup through a straw if you make it out alive.

Christ, you really are wet behind the ears, ain't you. I mean _Barnes and Rogers_ , of course. They's Miss Carter's heavies, you see? You get on her bad side and she'll send 'em after you, and they ain't half as nice as she is. You'd almost call 'em pretty boys--big eyes, long lashes, a girl's pouty lips--if it weren't for the fact that when they hit a man, he stays down.

They're both kind of odd for gangsters, if I'm bein' honest, here. Whassat, Ern? Yeah, yeah, that's a good one. They's like choir boys that took a wrong turn and ended up crackin' heads together 'stead of learnin' their catechism. Least that's Barnes, anyway. James Buchanan Barnes, head of the class. Had a great future all lined up for him, but then his parents kicked it and he dropped outta school to take care of his sisters. Didn't go so good for him, I heard; ended up throwing fights for dough 'til ol' man Philips caught him at it. He's lucky he got a job 'stead of concrete overshoes.

Steve Rogers, though, he's even odder. You won't never find a more morally-centered mook. Goes to church every Sunday, takes care of his sick ma, always polite, always has candy for the kids. But then he goes and puts a line of guys in Chicago overcoats, just to remind you that you can't never really know a man.

He's a sick little squirt, too. Skinny as a two-by-four and shorter than my old lady. But him and Barnes, they's been friends since they was in short pants, and back in those days Rogers was always gettin' in some scrap or other. Think he worked as a runner for one of the smaller Irish gangs, but then he got noticed by the biggies. Little runt, always gettin' back up no matter how many times he was pushed back down? 'Course he was. So Philips, he was head of the crew back then, he got hold of him first. Decided a heavy as unexpected as Rogers could only be a good thing. I mean, think about it: you see a tiny guy up against a line of big men in suits? You ain't gonna look at him twice.

Anyway. Peggy took over from her uncle when he got shot by Hodge's crew up in Queens, and lemme tell you, she runs the ship with a tight fist. Hear tell she and Rogers was already givin' each other doe-eyes, so their fallin' in together wasn't much what you'd call news--can't see the appeal on her end, if I'm bein' honest, two-steppin' with him's gotta be like gettin' poked by a pencil--but when they pulled Barnes in with them? No one saw that comin'. Either one of them boys is more'n a little queer, or Carter went and got greedy, who knows. But it's share and share alike in Peggy Carter's bed, least that's what I hear.

But hey, who'm I to judge. She's a knock-out, herself--ain't a finer pair of gams in this man's neighborhood, no sir. She wants it all, I'm fine with lettin' her. She's kept up her end of the deal more times'n I can count.

Say, what's your name, anyhow?

Erskine? What kinda name is that? Oh. You from Scotland, then, 'cause you don't sound like it. From _Germany_? Look, pal, I dunno if you've heard, but we're at _war_ with Germany. Shut up, Ernie, it's a matter of time.

Oh. Well. Guess a Kike's better'n a Kraut. What're you askin' all this stuff about Miss Carter's crew, for? Yeah, yeah. You wanna disappear, she can do that. I got a few contacts down the grapevine, I'll send the word along. Pff, it ain't a hardship, pal. I know a guy who knows a guy, you know? Just slip the right word in the right place and it'll get to the right ears. Ain't no skin offa my nose.

Sure, she can get you whatever stuff you want. You plannin' on settin' up a distillery, or somethin'? 'Cause I'm glad to say Prohibition's long dead, so you won't be gettin' much outta--

Oh. Yeah, she can get that, too. Might even take an active interest, you know what I'm sayin'? Be damn convenient, havin' a doctor on board when things get too hot for hospitals. Shit, you'll be busier'n a one-armed paper hanger if she takes you on.

Hey, Ern, you know if Martha's got any rooms spare?--Martha Kinnick. She's got a boarding house just up the road, ain't a half-bad place to kip while you wait.--She does? Well, that settles it. I'll let Miss Carter's crew know about you, and Martha's just got a tenant left this mornin'.

Welcome to Brooklyn, Doc.


End file.
